


Tell You All About It

by FagurFiskur



Series: 30 (more) cheesy tropes [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, M/M, Misunderstandings, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4305585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean cleared his throat, catching Castiel's attention. He averted his eyes when Castiel looked at him, a faint blush high in his cheeks. "I'm gonna..." he started, before finishing his sentence in an inaudible mumble.</p><p>"What?" Castiel asked, brows furrowing.</p><p>"Miss you," Dean said, just slightly louder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell You All About It

**Author's Note:**

> 30 (more) cheesy tropes: #15 Reunion
> 
> Title from this and the previous one-shot taken from See You Again by Wiz Khalifa. I tried as hard as I could to make this one stand on its own, but there's one scene that's kind of missing because I really didn't feel like writing it again. But hopefully this is still cohesive. (I honestly have no idea. I struggled so hard with writing this)

The call from Michael came on Thursday.

Four days later, Castiel had packed and bought his ticket back to Detroit.

He didn't have much in the way of earthly belongings, and he would be leaving most of it behind until he knew how long he had to stay. The thought of settling in Detroit made him queasy, but depending on how big this 'family emergency' was that Michael spoke of, he might have to. Michael had certainly seemed to think so.

The night before his flight, Castiel held what Dean referred to as 'the world's saddest going-away party', which was in reality just the two of them on the couch at Dean's apartment, with a six-pack of beers and a Discovery Channel special about sharks on in the background.

"He didn't say why you had to come?" Dean asked, for what was probably the fourth or fifth time. Castiel hadn't bothered to keep count.

"For Michael to sound the way he did," Castiel said, "I'm sure it has something to do with Father. Whether he's returned or..." he trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. "Either way, I need to return."

Dean hummed, taking a sip of his beer. "That sucks."

"Yes."

To say it 'sucked' was an understatement. Castiel had left most of his family behind eight years ago, with no intention of returning. He shared the occasional awkward phone call with his mother every Christmas and Easter, but otherwise the only one he still spoke to was Anna.

His real family was here, in San Jose; Meg, Balthazar, Sam and Jess, and (especially) Dean. He still felt a sense of duty towards Michael and the others, which was why he was returning to them, but there was little love lost.

Dean cleared his throat, catching Castiel's attention. He averted his eyes when Castiel looked at him, a faint blush high in his cheeks. "I'm gonna..." he started, before finishing his sentence in an inaudible mumble.

"What?" Castiel asked, brows furrowing.

"Miss you," Dean said, just slightly louder.

Castiel's expression smoothed, his heart fluttering at Dean's admission. Expressing his emotions had never come easy to Dean, so the fact that he would say even this much filled Castiel with an odd warmth.

"I'm going to miss you, too," he said. "I wish I didn't have to go."

Dean snorted, a bitter smile on his face. "Doesn't change anything, though, does it? This isn't about what you want."

Castiel could hear the disapproval in his voice, and the warmth he'd been feeling evaporated into annoyance. Dean was not in a position to criticize Castiel for this; he'd been putting his family's needs before his own since he was a child. "You're right, it's not."

"You-" Dean looked up, eyes alight with anger. His jaw clenched and he turned in his seat, the position elevating him slightly so Castiel had to look up at him. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

" _I_ am?" Castiel said incredulously. "I'm doing nothing you yourself wouldn't do."

"I wouldn't abandon-"

Dean's eyes widened and he cut himself off. Castiel felt his stomach dip uncomfortably, but he didn't have time to wonder at what Dean had said or how raw he'd sounded when he'd said it, how hurt, because Dean was crowding him, hands grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close, lips pressing into Castiel's own.

For a moment Castiel's body seized in shock, hands flailing in the air before reaching blindly for Dean's arms and gripping them tight. His mind shut down, instincts taking over, and he returned the kiss, licking at the seams of Dean's mouth. Dean moaned and then he was moving, leg swinging over Castiel so he was straddling his lap. Their groins slotted together and Castiel's hips twitched at the contact, bringing even more glorious friction.

Dean ground down in response, long, sensuous rolls of his hips, causing heat to pool low in Castiel's gut. His head was swimming, still struggling to keep up with what was happening, how Dean could be kissing him and touching him like this.

He broke the kiss. "What are you doing?"

"I just-" Dean made a soft, impatient noise, and started tugging at Castiel's collar. "I need- please, let me just-"

It was a bad idea. Castiel knew this, and he knew Dean knew it, but there wasn't a force on earth that could make him say no. He nodded, forehead bumping softly against Dean's at the movement. "Yes."

  
They stayed rooted on the couch, somehow fumbling out of most of their clothes while retaining their position. They stopped short of their underwear, not wanting to stain the couch, and rocked against each other just like that, pressed as close as possible, hands clumsy in their eagerness to touch each other, their kisses wet and messy.

They didn't say anything, not until Dean was about to come and he buried his face in the crook of Castiel's neck, whispering over and over, "I love you, love you, love you," the movements of his hips growing increasingly uncoordinated until he stilled and came with a low wail.

Castiel shuddered, rutting up a few times before finishing as well. It felt like an afterthought, just automatic motions for his body to go through, as his mind was still focused on Dean's words, heart swelling, almost aching, with indescribable joy. He clutched Dean even tighter, kissing a soft trail up his shoulder, his neck, his jawline, then finally capturing Dean's lips.

But Dean pulled away. "You should go."

Castiel swallowed, hands instinctively tightening their grip on Dean. But as much as he wanted to protest, to call and cancel his flight right now and never leave Dean's arms again, he knew he couldn't. "Dean, I'm-"

"Yeah, I know," Dean said. "Just... get there safe, alright?"

\---

It wasn't until Castiel was at the airport, about to board the plane, that he realized he'd never told Dean he loved him back.

He grabbed for his phone, almost dropping it in his haste, and called Dean.

It went straight to voicemail. Castiel briefly considered leaving a message, but this felt too intimate for that, so he hung up.

Maybe it was for the best.

\---

The family emergency turned out to concern Father only tangentially. Mostly, it was the _company_ Michael had been so concerned about.

Castiel's siblings, finally having grown tired of hoping, had had Father declared legally dead. There was a funeral arranged to be held in a few days, a mostly symbolic event, and afterwards there were mountains of legal documents to take care of.

It explained why Michael had been so reluctant to tell Castiel anything about why he was needed. If Castiel had known all this, he wouldn't have bothered to make the trip. Now that he was here, though, leaving didn't seem so easy. She might be adept at hiding it, but Castiel could tell how heavily this all weighed on his mother, and despite everything he still didn't want her to suffer.

Besides, putting everything in order shouldn't take more than a month. Six weeks, at the most.

\---

It took four months.

Four grueling, agonizing months. If Castiel had ever needed confirmation that leaving his family had been the right thing to do, this was it.

The first couple of weeks, he tried desperately to get in contact with Dean. But Dean never picked up the phone, never answered his messages, never called back, and Castiel was forced to admit to himself that their next conversation would need to happen face-to-face.

There was also the possibility that Dean didn't _want_ to meet him. That whatever had happened between them had been meant to be taken as a one-time thing. A goodbye.

But that was a painful thought to dwell on, so Castiel forced himself not to and threw himself into work instead. Detroit was lonely enough as it was.

\---

As soon as Father's affairs had been put in order, Castiel ordered the first ticket he could get back to San Jose. It was more expensive due to short notice, but it was the first luxury he'd allowed himself since arriving in Detroit, so he decided not to worry about it.

There were no tearful goodbyes, and again it was Ion who drove Castiel to the airport. Castiel couldn't say he was disappointed, exactly, since he hadn't expected anything more, but he was _something_. Maybe bitter was the right word.

But putting Detroit aside the moment he touched down in San Jose proved easy. Whatever hint of regret or bitterness he felt at leaving his relatives behind, it paled in comparison to the joy at the prospect of seeing his real family again.

And Dean. Castiel knew better than to try and call him, but he wasn't so sure showing up at his apartment without warning would be a good idea either.

So he did the next best thing, and called Sam.

"Hello?"

Sam's voice was rough, like he'd just woken up, and Castiel realized with a hint of worry that he probably had. It was around eight AM on a Saturday, after all. "Hello, Sam."

"Cas?" Sam sounded more awake now. "Why are you calling? Did something happen?"

"I just got back. I was hoping you could tell Dean."

"You- _what the hell_?" Castiel flinched at the loud exclamation. "Dean tells you he loves you and you reject him and _leave_ and then you want to come back after _months_ like nothing happened and expect me to-"

"Sam," Castiel interrupted, as calmly as he could, considering that his hands were starting to shake. "Please, I think there's been some misunderstanding." There was an audible huff on Sam's end of the line, but he didn't hang up and he didn't keep yelling, so Castiel took that as permission to continue. "I didn't reject Dean."

"You didn't?" Sam repeated suspiciously.

"I didn't tell him I loved him back, either," Castiel admitted. "But I do, and I never would have left if I'd had a choice."

"Oh." There was a brief silence, and then, "I wish I'd known that before I started setting him up on dates."

The words, and their implication, hit Castiel like a punch to the gut. "I- I see."

"No! No, you don't see!" Sam said. "I mean, I've been setting Dean up on dates, but none of them have worked out. He's still hung up on you."

"He is?" Castiel couldn't help the cautious optimism that crept into his voice. So he wasn't too late. Dean hadn't moved on.

"Big time."

It was like a weight had lifted, one Castiel hadn't even realized had been there. He felt light, stomach fluttering with anticipation. "Could you-"

"I'll call him," Sam promised.

"Thank you."

\---

Sam arranged for Dean and Castiel to meet at the Roadhouse, arguing that it would be better for both of them to reunite on neutral grounds. Castiel didn't really care; either way, he would get to see Dean again.

The few hours between his conversation with Sam and the meeting at the Roadhouse seemed excruciatingly long. Castiel diverted himself by unpacking, and then by cleaning.

Even so, he left his apartment far too early, arriving at the Roadhouse with more than fifteen minutes to spare. He greeted Jo briefly; they weren't exactly friends, but they were on friendly enough terms, and she seemed happy to see him again. Then, more to have something to do than because he really needed to, he went to the bathroom.

By the time he got back, Dean was standing by the bar. He had his back turned on Castiel, but it was unmistakably him. Castiel walked towards him as if in a daze, heart hammering, hands already itching to touch him.

He gave into the temptation, reaching his hand out and grabbing Dean's shoulder. Dean turned around, obviously startled, mouth going slack when he saw Castiel.

"Hello, Dean."

  
It didn't take more than four minutes for Castiel to feel like those four months away from Dean hadn't happened at all. It wasn't that everything was the same - they'd slept together, and Dean had told Castiel he loved him, so how could it be - but they were as comfortable with each other as they'd ever been.

Castiel didn't feel like talking about Detroit, so Dean filled the silence with stories from work, and of their friends. He didn't have much to say about the dates Sam had set him up on, other than they hadn't been good ("Sam has the worst taste in men, seriously").

The conversation felt familiar, but there was an undercurrent of anticipation that hadn't existed between them before. The air felt charged, and it became more obvious every time their eyes met or their feet bumped together underneath the table.

Finally, Castiel couldn't stand it anymore.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Dean's eyes widened minutely. "Uh, yeah."

Not wanting to waste another moment, Castiel grabbed Dean's hand and got up, pulling him along. Dean stumbled for a second before catching up with him, hand squeezing Castiel's as he did.

They got outside and Dean took control, leading Castiel towards the Impala. Castiel had arrived in his own car, but he reasoned with himself the Roadhouse parking lot was as safe a spot as any to leave it for a few hours. Right now, he didn't want to stop touching Dean.

When they reached the Impala, Castiel couldn't resist the urge to push Dean against the passenger side. They were alone, or as good as, for the first time since he'd gotten back, and he needed to feel Dean's lips against his.

Castiel leaned in and Dean met him halfway, their noses bumping together awkwardly before they remembered to tilt their heads. Their lips met, a soft touch at first, but then Dean let out an impatient huff and wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Castiel went willingly, grabbing onto Dean's hips, enjoying the way Dean's breath hitched at the touch.

A nearby car honked, reminding them that they were still out in the open, and Castiel reluctantly pulled away. "We should continue this somewhere private."

Dean licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

The drive back to Dean's apartment felt like forever, even though in reality it was probably less than fifteen minutes. They stopped again to kiss against the car, then by the doorway as Dean looked for his keys.

Once they got inside the apartment, instead of heading for the bedroom Dean pulled Castiel towards the couch, pushing him to sit down on it and then getting on top of him, straddling his lap. The familiar position made lust pool low in Castiel's gut, but it also reminded him that there was still something he hadn't told Dean.

"I love you," he blurted, because now that he remembered there was no way to keep the words down.

Dean stiffened on top of him. A strange expression crossed his face, but before Castiel could interpret it Dean was ducking his head, hiding it in the crook of Castiel's neck. "It's okay, you know. You don't have to say it back."

Castiel frowned, confused, before it hit him. Dean didn't believe him.

It shouldn't have surprised him. Dean had always had a low opinion of himself, always believed that he wasn't deserving of the good things in his life. But it was still a shock, because if there was any one true constant in Castiel's life it was this: he would always love Dean Winchester.

He grabbed the back of Dean's neck, tugging gently until Dean got the message and raised his head again. He still wouldn't meet Castiel's eyes.

"I love you," Castiel said, with all the conviction he could muster. "And I'm going to say it as often as I have to until you believe me."

Dean flushed. "Cas..."

"I love you," Castiel said again, kissing Dean's cheek softly. "I love you." Another kiss, on the other cheek. "I lo-"

Dean's lips cut him off. Castiel surged into it and Dean bit down on his lower lip, drawing a groan from him. There was an anger to this kiss, and Castiel wondered if he'd pushed too far. His hand reached up, cupping Dean's face, and as he ran his thumb over Dean's cheek he could feel wetness.

He broke the kiss, but Dean didn't let him get far, grabbing the hairs on the back of his head to hold him still. "I love you," Castiel repeated one more time.

Dean sniffled. "Okay." Then he laughed, a low and subdued sound. "Okay. I love you, too."


End file.
